


Knot or Not

by Nevcolleil



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha Len, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mates, References to Knotting, Smut, beta-to-alpha trans Mick, but Mick is totally onto him, maybe a little conniving Len, positive attitudes towards one another's sexual identities, talk about a threesome, talk about breeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/pseuds/Nevcolleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisa is the first one who said it out loud, but they both agree: it’s like they were made for one another. They’ve been together for going-on-thirty years, and neither of them has ever regretted what they gave up to be together...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knot or Not

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (absolutely unnecessary) take on an A/B/O AU for Mick and Len (that could one day evolve into Mick/Len/Barry and maybe involve the discussion of mpreg.)
> 
> Read at your own risk :p

Both Len and Mick grew up in households where the ideal of the alpha-omega bond was shoved down his throat as the end-all and be-all of relationships. Mick, as the only beta in a family of alphas, was constantly tormented by his siblings and his mother for daring to present the same alpha-normative traits as they did. Meanwhile, Len endured punishment after punishment from his father for not presenting _enough_. For “coddling” his sister like “some bitch omega”, and for preferring sleight of hand and a quick wit over physical violence as a means to getting what he wants. Both of them preferred the company of other alphas over intimacy with a mild-tempered beta or an accommodating omega.

Lisa is the first one who said it out loud, but they both agree: it’s like they were made for one another. They’ve been together for going-on-thirty years, and neither of them has ever regretted what they gave up to be together - what they can’t have together that an alpha typically gets with an omega.

Alone together, they’ll never breed. They’ll never knot or be knotted. Mick’s treatments can do a lot of things, but simulate an alpha’s reactivity to sexual stimulation isn’t one of them. And if Mick can’t knot his partner, then Len _won’t_. He can sense his mate’s discomfort every time Mick offers to let him try, even without an actual bond bite. 

For going-on-thirty years, neither knots nor pups have been anything close to a deal breaker for Len or Mick. Their lifestyle is hardly fit for raising a family, and they both have serious issues with the way _they_ were raised; concerns that they might follow in the footsteps of their fucked up parents and fuck up their own litter just as badly.

Also, sex toys exist for a reason.

But on their twenty-fifth anniversary, Len suggests a change. 

As of the week before, it’s official - Lisa is sterile. She’s never gonna breed a mate, even if she ever gets over that piece of shit Roscoe and bites someone. That means she’s never gonna have a pup that smells like blood. Their pack will only ever grow from the Rogues they bring in and whatever litters they produce.

Not that, the night after Len makes his suggestion, he’s thinking about his sister or his pack or the future, whatsoever.

He’s too busy writhing underneath Mick and knotting up in thin air.

“Yeah... _Yeah_ , Lenny, there you are,” Mick grunts into Len’s skin, a soft, low growl rumbling steadily behind his words, punching every single one of Len’s buttons. “That’s right, swell for me, sweetheart.... That’s beautiful.”

“ _Mick_... M-mick...”

Len’s not thinking, period. The world has narrowed to the blunt force of Mick’s big body working between Len’s spread thighs, Mick’s reverent grip, his rough palm tenderly hefting the weight of Len’s growing knot.

“Want me to stroke it for you, baby boy? Huh? Want me to take care of you, Lenny?” Mick asks, absolutely un-fucking-necessarily.

“Please... _fuck_ , please...”

He’s the only who’s ever made Len beg. And Len’s actually _happy_ that he can. Because Len knows that, if he begs-

The movements of Mick’s hips become near piston-like, and his hand tightens suddenly into a snug channel around Len’s knot. Mick starts to jack him with real purpose.

“ _Oh my g-_ ”

Len’s voice curdles and sticks in his throat as his back arches and he comes, long and hard in Mick’s hand, eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure and head snapping to one side so that Mick can latch onto the curve of his neck with blunt teeth.

Mick’s hips stutter and he comes into Len moments later, with a snarl and a whine that eventually disappears into quiet but heavy breathing.

Not thinking about certain things works out rather well for Len, nine times out of ten.

But before the sweat and semen have even dried, Len’s _not_ not thinking again. He thinks he’s doing it discreetly, but only a second after Mick climbs out of bed, he hears his mate scoffing at him from the nearby bathroom.

“Just let it be, Lenny.”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“Sure. Of course you don’t,” Mick says with decidedly less warmth than he’s been putting out all evening. But his hands are still gentle when he comes back to bed and cleans Len up. When he tosses aside the washcloth he’s brought back with him, and crawls back onto the sheets, he doesn’t hesitate to scoop Len into his arms and arrange their bodies how he likes them.

(Len, of course, lets him. Anyone who’d judge hasn’t been spooned by the likes of a recently sated Mick Rory, in all his cuddle-hungry glory.)

After a beat of silence Len is just about to break himself, Mick says, completely serious, “I don’t need no one but you, boss.” And if the tone of his voice weren’t enough to tell Len he means it, the surprise use of his favorite pet name for Len would be. 

In front of other people, or whenever he thinks Len just really needs it, Mick calls Len ‘boss’ - like a joke sometimes, since the first time he used the term Len was desperately topping him from the bottom. 

Usually though it’s a reminder. A comfort. Mick knows just how hard Len has to fight the self-loathing Lewis beat into him over and over again, the need to constantly play alpha-in-charge, even when it’s the last thing he wants. Mick always seems to know when Len needs to be reminded that he doesn’t have to call the shots to be worth something.

Len turns so he can look Mick in the eye and say, every bit as sincere, “And I don’t need anyone but you. I’m just saying... it could be nice. A pretty omega to share between the two of us. Maybe, eventually-”

“A litter of little Snarts for Auntie Lisa to spoil?”

“A litter of little _Micks_ ,” Len argues, before Mick can get the wrong idea about why he wants to do this. Lisa is one reason, yes. But she isn’t nearly all of them.

“With those eyes... and your ego,” Mick actually jokes, smacking his lips between the eyes in question in a quick, sloppy kiss, “they’d have us wrapped around their little fingers before you could order ‘em not to.”

“Like they’d take orders any better than their old man,” Len responds smoothly, content to tease if that’s what it takes to start this conversation. “They’ll probably set their playpen on fire if I so much as try.”

“Could be nice,” Mick agrees, surprisingly easy.

But then, he is dozing off on the high of an enthusiastic orgasm. (Len isn’t above using _all_ physical methods of getting what he wants.)

“Lemme sleep on it,” he concedes, and Len is more than okay with that.

After all, they’ve gone this long without an omega to function as the be-all and end-all of their relationship.

What’s one more night - or one hundred - in the grand scheme of this thing they found in each other, despite all the odds against them?


End file.
